This is Not a Songfic
by CSINut214andScullyAsTrinity
Summary: No, really... it's not.


_**ScullyAsTrinity's A/N**: It was a real treat, getting to write this with Radish. It's wonderful to find that we're both frightfully insane... and both enjoy... you know, fighting the 'man'.._

_**CSINut214's A/N**: This was Leslie's brainchild. We started writing it on IM in bits and pieces, and then whoomp... there it was._

* * *

She was whistling as she walked into the lab. She was smiling too, a record day for the overly happy Sara Sidle. And so, she whistled and whistled and bobbed her head. She loved this song. She'd always loved this song... it had been one of her favorites since she had been little. 

Her brother would play it and she would hear it through the wall and sing along.

"The-" She began, but was cut off by Greg's arrival. Sara's mood soured. She was_ never_ allowed to break into song. It was just not fair!

His smile was obscenely large and she attempted not to squint at the wattage of it. "Was that what I think it was? I love that song!" His head bopped along to the nonexistent beat, his crazy hair flying to and… well… fro.

Sara smiled reluctantly at the young CSI. "Yeah, I totally love C-"

At that moment she stepped into the break room, blinking in shock at the scene before them.

"No, Nick, you pivot, _then_ step," Catherine was barking, swiveling her hips to the thudding beat. Nick and Warrick were doing their best to keep up, but Warrick kept getting his eyes stuck on Catherine's tush. It was inevitable, everyone loved to stare at Catherine's tush. Sara found herself pondering why, as she stared at it too.

"Uh, guys?" she said finally, trying not to smile. "Why are you dancing to this song?" It was a rather... _flamboyant_ choice.

Nick gave her a confused shrug. "We were talking about this case we're investigating, the murder of an exotic dancer. And… yeah… I'm not quite sure how it led to this, actually." He shrugged once more and rotated his rear to the beat. Greg, for some reason or other, gravitated to the spot directly behind Nick.

"Dancing lessons," Catherine said, still gyrating. "These boys move like stiffs."

"Hey!" Warrick objected. He couldn't help grinning at Nick, though, who shot back a smirk. _She said 'stiff.' _

"Okay, I get the dancing lesson... kind of. But this song," Sara groaned. "It's so 1997. I mean, who really listens to-"

"I do," Catherine said sharply. "They're very talented. Remember that one song they did?"

"I loved that song!" Greg said excitedly.

"No, not that one, the other one," Catherine corrected him.

"Oh... that one was overrated, I thought. That one lyric..."

"Totally," Sara nodded.

"How did it go?" Nick asked, still attempting to shake his booty but failing rather miserably. Sara looked over at him and thought for a moment, biting her lip.

"I think it went, like, 'I will-'"

"What the hell is going on in here?" Grissom stood in the doorway, yelling over the loud music. Everyone in the room froze, looking down guiltily. He was peering over the tops of his glasses at them, head bent, making it appear that he had a double chin.

Sara stifled a laugh and sat down on the edge of the table. Grissom pretended not to watch her, as always.

"It's a... dance lesson." Catherine began sheepishly, gesturing to the odd stance that Nick and Warrick were stuck in. "Uh, sort of."

Sara couldn't help it this time, and she laughed as the two men straightened.

"Exotic dancer case?" Grissom guessed, and the room sighed in relief.

"Warrick says I move like a white boy," whined Nick, his lower lip creeping out.

Catherine rubbed his shoulders comfortingly. "Maybe Grissom can show you some of his moves..."

Sara spun around in surprise. "You have moves?"

"I, uh, what?" He shot Catherine a death glare.

"He had training!" Catherine divulged, her eyebrows raised at him in a silent dare.

"Oh, this I've got to hear," Sara said, leaning forward eagerly.

Grissom sighed, his neck growing red. "It's not that big a deal. When I was growing up, my mom enrolled me in a... uh... a sort of academy where you learn manners."

"You went to charm school?" Greg's mouth twisted violently in an attempt not to laugh. "That's... um… special."

Warrick leaned over the radio, fiddling with the knob for several seconds. "Okay, Griss, show us what you've got."

"I don't think so," Grissom said gruffly, looking around for an excuse to leave.

"See? He can't dance either," Nick crowed. Grissom gave him a hard look, then walked forward with determination, grabbing a startled Sara around the waist.

"This okay?" he asked, embarrassed. She gave him a quick nod of delight, and they began to move together to the beat. They closed their eyes, feeling the perfect fit of their bodies as they danced to a popular, romantically relevant song.

Just then, Conrad Ecklie happened to walk by. He stopped, an outraged look on his face, and stormed into the break room. "What is-" He stopped as he heard the melodic notes floating through the air.

"Everything okay, sir?" Greg asked tentatively.

"Um... yeah," Ecklie said, his eyes filling with tears. "This song just makes me think of my ex. It was... you know... our song."

"I'm sorry," Greg offered with genuine sympathy. "It's a great song."

"Yes," Ecklie agreed sadly. "Ronald was the one who picked it."

Ecklie did a one-man waltz for a moment, a tear slipping down his cheek, then walked back down the hallway looking glum.

"Um..." Warrick looked at Catherine in bewilderment.

"Yeah," she said blankly, then brightened as a new song came on. "Hey, I love this one!"

"It always makes me think of flamingos and fat-free mayonnaise," Nick said, snapping his fingers.

"Totally!" Greg said. He darted over to Nick and started to tango with him. The two men laughed as they tried to ignore the strong homoerotic vibe between them.

Greg shook his moneymaker for the room to see and while Sara was still reeling from her dance with Grissom, she couldn't help but admire the young man's backside. _Ain't too bad at all_, she mused to herself and turned to glance at Grissom, who was wearing an expression of abject horror.

Catherine couldn't help it, she jumped in and began dancing as well.

"I can't stand this song man, it's so..." Warrick searched for the appropriate adjective.

Sara crossed her arms over her chest. "I happen to enjoy this group, I've been to a bunch of their concerts. You should hear them do this song live. It's _bitchin'_." She stepped back when both Grissom and Warrick looked at her, stunned. "What? It is!"

Grissom attempted to picture Sara rocking out at a concert, but shook the image from his head, treading dangerous water.

"Bitchin' or not, I'm changing the station," Warrick said firmly. He turned the knob until a slow jazz song came on. "Now that's what I'm talking about," he grinned, as Catherine grabbed his hand and led him in a slow dance that was terrible inappropriate for the workplace. Maybe her former workplace, but not this one.

Grissom pulled Sara back into his arms, his eyes dreamy. "Sara," he whispered reverently. "You are so, so beautiful to me."

"Oh, Griss," she said softly. "You are everything that I've hoped for."

"You're everything I need," he replied. "Hey, does that remind you of a song?"

"Nope."

"Me neither."

They swayed to the music, oblivious to the sudden appearance of a whole new world, a dazzling place they'd never known.

Nick glanced at Greg. Greg glanced at Nick. They wondered if it would be at all odd to dance to a slow jam in the break room. Neither of them would make the move so Greg reached over and changed the station. Four sets of angered eyes bore down on him. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't take it."

Grissom glared hard, but then his expression lightened. "Hey, this isn't that bad..."

Warrick smiled and nodded. "This is uh, how does the chorus go? She's like-"

"The sky?" Sara posed.

"The rain?" Nick guessed, but Warrick shook his head.

Catherine tried. "A gust of air at a high velocity, sometimes akin to a storm?" Everyone stared at her for a moment. Then they all agreed whole-heartedly. Good song though...

Grissom blew out a long sigh. "All right people, I hate to break up this love fest but it's time to get to work." Oblivious to the pouts, Grissom blinked, stunned that the word 'love' had actually spilled from his lips.

The crew filed out of the room dejectedly, Nick and Greg throwing longing looks at each other. Sara opened her mouth to say something to Grissom, but decided not to spoil the moment.

A few minutes later, Brass entered the empty break room, filling his mug with coffee. The radio was still playing, and he tapped his foot to the beat. For a moment he actually considered dancing.

"Nah," he said to himself, taking a sip of joe. "I'm too sexy for this song."


End file.
